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Battlefield Z (Book 2): Children's Brigade

Page 6

by Lowry, Chris


  Hannah reached out for my arm and held me stay.

  “Not like that,” she shook her head. “I can do it. I can get us out. I just need an extra day or two.”

  I studied her eyes then as she looked up at me. Blue ice colored eyes under a serious face, too beautiful to belong in this world, and the lines on her brow from seeing things a kid should only hear about as tall tales and legends.

  Would I trust my daughter this much? What would I tell her Mom?

  I was sent to get her out and the little teenage dictator holding her hostage was in my way.

  I shook off her arm but she grabbed it again and held tighter.

  “Please,” she said. “We don't have time. Wait.”

  What do kids know?

  She was asking me to give her time to find a peaceful solution, but it wasn't a peaceful world. Or maybe she had a plan, and I was going to blow it all to hell.

  Byron seemed to have a safe way figured out, and was doing just fine. Maybe the kids knew something adults didn't.

  I nodded, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  “One day,” I whispered. “Front gate tomorrow at sunset.”

  She nodded.

  “If you're not there, it all comes down.”

  She heard it in my voice and it made her shiver. It almost made me shiver because I knew how serious I was.

  I went back out the way I came in and I don't think anyone saw me.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “You did what!”

  Harriet slugged me. I didn't see it coming and it caught me high on the cheekbone. I fumbled back and plopped on my ass in front of Brian, Jamal, Anna and Peg. We were back in the clearing in the woods after I collected them from the front gate with a whistle in the woods.

  It let the kids at the gate know there was at least one more person in our group, and I hated to give them that info, but it was our prearranged signal.

  I could see Harriet wanted to ask about Hannah as soon as they stepped into the shadows of the trees, but I motioned her to silence as we trekked back to camp.

  I put the back of my hand to my face and winced.

  “Why?” she screamed.

  “I did what she asked me to do,” I pushed myself up off the ground and dusted off my hands.

  She took another swing, and I blocked this one with the flat of my arm while Brian and Peg wrestled her away.

  “You just left her there? Do you know what they could be doing to her? She's just a little girl! That's the only reason we brought you back, to save her and you can't even do that.”

  “Harriet,” Brian said and she burst into tears.

  “You were supposed to save her,” she sobbed.

  Peg steered her to the far side of the camp and hugged her as they whispered things into each others ears. Consoling things I hoped. It's going to be okay things. Not the we'll shoot him when he turns his back sort of things.

  She looked that mad.

  Anna reached up and ran a gentle finger down my cheek.

  “That's going to leave a mark.”

  “She knocked you on your ass,” Jamal grinned.

  “Happens to the best of us,” I shrugged. I could feel the skin starting to swell around my cheek and eye.

  “Wish we had some frozen peas,” Brian studied the wound with Anna.

  “Wish we had some beer,” I sighed, thinking of the pastor and his row after row of beer. It'd be warm, but I could pretend I was in Britain at least.

  “Let's move back to the bank,” I said and grabbed the pack and rifle.

  “This is a good place to camp,” said Brian.

  “Yeah, but if they come at us, I want solid walls between us and them, not strings.”

  “Wire,” he scoffed.

  “Might as well be strings to bullets. Walls stop bullets.”

  I didn't want to tell them I preferred a counter between me and Harriet, at least for the night, and maybe even the vault. I knew how angry I get as a Dad, and Mom's have the whole bear cub maternity thing I didn't want to come close to crossing.

  The others gathered their meager belongings and we made the short hike back to the bank. I had Anna and Jamal do a quick walk around to check that we were alone and no Z had set up shop in the lengthening shadows since we were there earlier.

  It was clear.

  I let Brian build a small fire in the corner of the room and set up in the vault like I planned and joined the others when they had finished cooking more soup.

  “I could get real tired of this,” Brian smacked his lips.

  Harriet sipped her can in silence.

  “Here's the plan. I saw Hannah in the cafeteria but she wouldn't come with me. She wanted to rescue the other kids,” at this I glanced at Jamal. “Are they there against their will?”

  He shrugged.

  “Were you?”

  “Byron's got a way of talking man,” Jamal lowered his head. “Most of us were alone, but some of them were with adults. The adults were convinced to leave the kids behind.”

  “He killed them.”

  “No, I don't think so.”

  “I'm a father Jamal. We don't leave our kids behind.”

  “You did,” Harriet spat. “Twice. Three times now.”

  “Harriet stop,” Peg said but it was too late. The words were out there.

  “You left your kids to die in Arkansas, and lost another in Florida and now you've left mine.”

  I didn't see my face when I stood up, but I saw their faces when I stood up. I saw them all flinch away, saw it through a sea of red rage. Jamal fumbled for his pistol. Maybe he planned to shoot me, maybe he was just trying to keep me from hurting anyone else.

  I put the tip of my hiking boot on his hand and pressed down, hard enough that he cringed and cried out, but nothing was broken.

  Brian stood up and put a hand on my chest.

  “Hey,” he cooed. “It's us.”

  I breathed in. And out. In. Out. The red receded. I could hear a sound in my ears that sounded like ocean waves crashing on a shore and realized it was my blood pounding through my veins.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  I lifted my foot off Jamal's hand and settled back onto the floor.

  “Never. Do. That.”

  He nodded and nursed his bruised fingertips.

  “Hannah,” I started and stopped. I could still feel the blood, the rage bubbling and took a few more breaths.

  They watched me, this group I called my second family. Peg's eyes saucer wide with fear, Brian's sympathetic gaze searching my face for what would happen next. Harriet refusing to look directly at me, shame perhaps making her lower her eyes. Taking my worst fear and twisting it, like a dagger into a man who had rescued her daughter twice now. Anna's look steady and sure, gleaming in the glow of the flickering flame.

  “Hannah asked to stay behind. She has a plan. I trusted her.”

  “You don't know her,” Harriet muttered, still not looking fully at me. “She's just a kid.”

  “She asked me to trust her,” it was all the explanation I planned to give. “We're meeting at the front gate tomorrow at sunset.”

  That seemed to brighten her up a bit, all of them. We just had to make it through the night and we were secure in a stone building, wire stretched across the doors and windows to keep out Z.

  Tomorrow would stretch long as we waited, but I planned to look around for a vehicle to use once we got Hannah back. She could go with her mother, Brian and Peg could go find a fort, Jamal could hang with whoever, and Anna would probably throw in with me again. I planned to put the pedal to the metal and hightail it to Arkansas in one day and find out what happened.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  We made it through the night without incident. There was a lone Z moan we heard through darkness, perhaps from the road but it didn't come near the dark bank building and disappeared after several minutes.

  I slept with my back against the wall in the corner of the vault, rifle across my knee and couldn't
convince Anna to be anywhere other than by my side. She stretched out beside me and used my leg as a pillow.

  The next morning, we rationed out the soup in three cans and kept the rest for later. I knew we still had supplies a half a day away, but I wasn't sure when we would get to them so it made sense to go through what we had slowly.

  Plus I was getting tired of tomato soup.

  “It's a long time until sunset,” Harriet said when I walked out of the vault.

  She still hadn't apologized for punching me.

  “Which way is town?” I asked Jamal.

  “I'll show you.”

  Anna slunk out of the vault and stretched like a cat. She checked her shotgun safety and waited by the door after slurping down her half of a can.

  “What do you want us to do?” Brian asked.

  He wanted to come with, I could tell. He was practically vibrating.

  “We can all go,” I told him. “We're looking for transportation back. We can't all fit in Jamal's car.”

  I didn't tell them I was probably going to go off on my own again.

  We walked a half a mile up the road following Jamal's direction and he led us into what had been a town. It was stripped clean and bare, though we only had his word for that at first.

  “Byron told us to take it all,” he said in a halting voice. “We took the food, weapons we could find, everything up to the school.”

  “Why is it so big?” Brian asked.

  He was right. The little town was too small for such a large campus, but Jamal knew the answer.

  “They closed down the old schools when they built this one and bussed us in from all over the county.”

  And that made sense enough, and settled the great debate on why such a tiny berg had a campus built for one thousand.

  I had Jamal take us to the residential part of town a few blocks off the main street, past the empty businesses killed off by progress, and the now empty tiny shops killed off by the aftermath of the Z.

  “You looking for anything in particular,” the boy asked.

  “A ride.”

  He nodded.

  “Like mine or big enough for all of us.”

  “All,” I lied.

  I really wanted two rides, but a van with nine seats would do. Or one of the larger SUV's they built now, built for teams of people or large families even though the size of an American clan has shrunk to just four people. Sometimes three.

  I caught the thought and chuckled in my chest.

  Now the average size family was one or zero.

  The cars here were nicer than the houses, old structures built in the fifties and abandoned as the town kept shifting and the old citizens died out. The new families could afford the home, but not the remodel and the houses withered in time and under weather.

  Brian found a giant Ford Explorer next to a long church van. There was little debate on which one to take, but the gas tanks made the decision for us. The SUV had a half tank, the church van almost empty.

  Brian gave a little victory punch to the air and beat on the door so we could look for keys. There were no Z inside, no food in the pantry or cabinets, muddy bootprints on the floor, some child sized and Jamal nodded.

  “That's them, or was us,” he said in a fit of confusion.

  I understood what he meant.

  Peg took the key outside and cranked up the vehicle with a throaty grumble. Harriet followed her out.

  “She's sorry, you know,” Brian attempted to play peacemaker.

  “She should say it,” Anna shot back.

  “We're all on the same side,” I said and let it go. I wished I could forget the tinder eye as easy as I could the argument.

  We had our transportation easy enough so there was no excuse to keep looking. When it came time, I'd just have to take Jamal's car. We went back to the bank to pass the afternoon, skipping lunch and rationing soup for dinner later on when we were all together.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Two kids walked down to the gate, their faces serious in the waning sunlight. The sun hadn't set yet, we were a little early but they must have been watching for us. It drifted over the treetops making the leaves look like they were catching fire.

  "LaRon," said Jamal. "And Donald."

  Both were teens, LaRon the taller of the duo and loping like he was an athlete. Donald walked with precise steps, as if he were counting the paces from the building to the fence.

  "He wants you to come in," said Donald as they reached the gate.

  I glanced over at Jamal.

  "Don't look at me," he whispered. "We don't usually let people in."

  "Is he planning to kill us?"

  LaRon pointed to the roof over his shoulder.

  "Could have done that already."

  I wondered how they knew we were down here. Did Hannah break and tell them. Were we being invited into a slaughter? But the tall kid was right. The shooters up top had a clear shot at each of us, and depending on how many were up there, they might be able to get six of us before we made the safety of the trees.

  Though secretly I suspected I'd be the first one down if they started shooting. Brian next, then Jamal. It's how I would have played it if I were Byron.

  "You can keep your weapons," said Donald. "If it makes you feel better."

  It did make me feel a little better, although we only had the rifle, shotgun and two pistols with two pikes. Not much to worry about if you walk into a room of armed kids.

  Maybe we weren't out gunned to bad though because a lot of the kids had been too young to carry, and others too young to trust with aiming well under pressure. That left about ten maybe a dozen to worry about. Two to one odds.

  Let's hope it wasn't a firefight, but if things went sideways we might stand a chance. If they left a couple of shooters on the roof.

  "You coming? Hannah said to tell you it's an invitation."

  That made my ears perk up. What was her plan?

  I took a tentative step forward. Donald turned and began to lead the way back. I fell in behind him, and the rest followed after me, Harriet almost jostling Anna aside so she could be the second into whatever room we ended up in.

  LaRon closed the gate and brought up the rear.

  Donald led us through the archway and into the rear building. I had been in the hallway yesterday. Same blue lockers, same white walls, same panther mascot. This time we turned into the assembly room instead of the cafeteria.

  Hannah stood on the stage beside Byron. The rest of the children were seated in order by height on the first two rows taking up twenty six seats. Two boys slipped in behind us, rifles slung over their shoulders.

  "Hannah!" Harriet couldn't hold it in and pushed past us.

  Donald reached out to stop her, but Byron shouted.

  "Hold!"

  Donald stepped back as the mother and daughter united at the foot of the stage.

  "Welcome," Byron said and stared directly at me. "You'll be safe here for as long as you choose to stay."

  He was short, and younger than Jamal had said, maybe fourteen if I was being generous. His eyes were bright and intelligent, a shock of hair swept down across his face. He had large hands, and large feet and an overly large head on a stick then body, like a tiny little scarecrow.

  If the kid got the chance to grow into his feet, he'd top six four, I bet, or more.

  "Thank you," I spoke up.

  I motioned Anna onto a row behind the kids, Brian and Peg across from her so that we were divided up, two to each side. I stood.

  "You can tell this isn't a presentation," said Byron. "Nor a performance. But it is a great way to meet. Hannah says I should speak with you."

  "We don't have to say much," I told him. "Just let Hannah and the rest who want to go, and we'll be on our way."

  Byron nodded and paced back and forth on the stage.

  "I see you are under some misconception," he said. "It doesn't surprise me. Jamal didn't quite grasp what I was trying to do here. Hence his de
parture."

  "What are you trying to do here?"

  "These people, kids you think of them, are free to go at any time. Hannah could leave if she chooses. She tells me she chose not to yesterday."

  I looked at her and she nodded and smiled.

  "That's right."

  "I am very impressed you were able to get in here," said Byron. "I've spent years thinking about this Z War, about what I would do, how I would react, and so far my plan has worked."

  "I was impressed with what you've done," I told him.

  "Thank you," he smiled and for a moment I could see the little boy in him, basking in the praise of an adult. "It makes me glad that you could appreciate it."

  "But I don't condone killing adults."

  "Don't you? Haven't you killed? Hannah has told me of her first rescue, and her second. By her accounts, you have little problem killing anyone that stands between you and what you desire."

  I nodded.

  "We are alike in that respect," he continued. "When you look at me, you see a little boy, barely a teen, but what if I were to tell you I'm more than that? I'm pretty advanced for my age."

  "I would think you were just bragging, except-" I indicated the kids, the auditorium and school beyond.

  "Exactly. I think you understand. It's not enough for me to tell you what I am like, but for you to hear about it and know it to be true. I suspect we think alike."

  He was thinking differently from me at the moment because I couldn't see where the conversation was going. I was keyed up, trying to watch the boy at the back of the room to make sure that rifle stayed on the sling, watching Hannah to see what she was trying to tell me with her look, and her eyes. Hoping Anna or Brian was watching the kid at my back.

  "I told you that I was impressed with you. The time I spent on protecting this place, I never considered a double distraction against a small enemy force.”

  “We're not your enemies.”

  “Oh I know that now,” he said, still pacing. “Poor choice of words. Hannah has opened my eyes to a world of possibilities.”

  He stopped then and gazed at her with the puppy dog look of a kid in love. I've heard it called moon eyes, but I'd never actually seen it before, but his pupils popped open and he started at her like a dog looking at it's owner. Smitten.

 

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